


Of Monsters and Men

by Gir_Hugs



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gir_Hugs/pseuds/Gir_Hugs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve had reservations about accepting Stark's invitation to move into the tower.</p><p>(5+1 fic; 5 people that thought introducing Tony Stark to Bucky was a bad idea, one person who knew it would work out fine.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Monsters and Men

“So,” Sam wrapped a hand around a mug of tea and turned to lean against the kitchen counter as he stared out into the living room and watched the surprise guest with wary eyes.  “What are you going to do with him?”

 

Steve caught the further tensing of Bucky’s shoulders, knew that he could hear them, but figured Bucky had just as much – if not more of – a say about what happened next than Steve did.  “Just help him…adjust, I guess.”

 

The captain wasn’t too sure that he would actually be much of a help considering how much of his own adjusting he was still doing. But Steve definitely wouldn’t be ditching Bucky now that he finally found his friend again – or, to be more apt, now that his friend had found him again. 

 

“Got a place to stay?” Sam asked carefully, looking willing but hesitant to offer his apartment as a semi-permanent home base for normalizing a brainwashed assassin.

 

It would be a nice gesture, but not something Steve would ever take Sam up on. The captain wouldn’t feel comfortable about keeping Bucky here.  Sam was a good man, a good soldier, but there was no way he would be able to combat the Winter Soldier should the _asset_ rear his head. Sam had already done so much to help Steve and he wasn’t going to make the man feel unsafe in his own home. No, he needed somewhere else to take Bucky after tonight.

 

The captain pursed his lips thoughtfully. SHIELD was gone, for the most part, and whatever remnants remained certainly didn’t have the same resources to call upon as before Project Insight.  His SHIELD-owned apartment was gone along with SHIELD.  Natasha had been radio-silence for weeks now, but before she’d left, she’d made contact to pass along a message from Stark.

 

“Apparently there’s an entire floor just for me in Stark Tower,” Steve managed to catch the slight flinch Bucky gave at the mention of Stark but didn’t pursue the matter, figuring they were all too exhausted to deal with whatever memory the name had triggered.

 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Steve turned to find Sam giving him a questioning look.  “I mean, your friend’s a little,” Sam pitched his voice a little softer, “fragile.  And Stark’s kinda got a reputation for being an confrontational smartass…”

 

Steve’s lips twitched as he thought about how many people had once described Bucky – and even on occasion, Steve himself – as a smartass.  In all honesty, Tony probably would have gotten on fabulously with the Bucky from before. But…well, the Bucky from _back then_ wasn’t the Bucky that was here _now_ , and Sam wasn’t wrong about his friend’s current mental state. 

 

Bucky was still suffering from a lot of side-effects of deprogramming from being the Winter Soldier.  It was going to take time to get anywhere close to what passed as normal for them and throwing someone as…loud as Stark at Bucky might not be the best idea.

 

“Yeah,” Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Guess you’re right. Maybe I can call Hill?”

 

Sam nodded in agreement before pushing himself off the counter.  “Sounds like a plan,” he patted Steve on the shoulder before shuffling down the hall. “Blankets and pillows are here,” he wrapped his knuckles against a closet door as he passed. “I’ll let you guys sort out who gets the couch and who gets the floor.”

 

~0~0~0~0~0~

 

“Hill,” a crisp tone sounded through the cell.

 

“Hey, it’s Steve,” the captain said as he watched his friend fake-sleep on the couch.  It was early morning, all of them only getting a scant few hours of sleep, but Steve really needed to figure out a safe place he could move Bucky.

 

“What do you need, Captain?” Hill was all business.

 

“Are there any safe houses left uncompromised?”

 

There was a very distinct and weighted silence and then a low-pitched question.  “You found him?”

 

“He found me, actually,” Steve admitted with a bemused smile.

 

Hill gave a hum of acknowledgement, “Assessment?”

 

“He’s…stable,” Steve chose the word carefully.

 

“For how long?”

 

Steve was optimistic but he was not naïve. He knew that it was going to take a hell of a lot of time and effort to undo what Hydra had done to his friend. There were sure to be slip-ups along the way as Bucky worked towards finding his own sense of self once more.

 

“I honestly cannot even begin to guess.”

 

“Right,” Hill gave an aggravated sigh. “Well, there aren’t any safe houses still intact that I know of, but let me make some calls.”

 

“Natasha said something about Stark-”

 

“I wouldn’t do that, Captain,” Hill cut him off before he could even finish.

 

“Why not?” Steve had his own reservations, but Stark was a good man, if not a likeable one, and Steve knew that the tower probably had the best security available to stop external and internal threats.

 

He heard Hill mumble something that sounded like “Because it’s _Stark_ ,” but when she replied she simply told him to wait for her to call back and then hung up. Steve stared at the phone for a minute, deciding that if Hill didn’t call back within a few hours, then he would call Stark himself to see if the man’s offer was still on the table.

 

When he looked into the living room, he noticed that Bucky had silently awoken and folded up the sheet and blanket he’d used to sleep.  The soldier was sitting stoically, not moving a single muscle, as he seemed to wait for something.

 

“Hey,” Steve called out softly, noticing that Bucky titled his head to the side to show he was listening.  “You hungry?”

 

A few moments passed, as if Bucky was actually taking stock of his body and trying to calculate whether nourishment was a necessity or not. When he finally came to a decision, he just dipped his head and replied with a succinct, “Yes.”

 

Steve stared at his friend for a second before turning back to the kitchen and rifling through Sam’s fridge.  He hoped Sam wasn’t as overly territorial about his food as he was his coffee.

 

~0~0~0~0~0~

 

They were all eating breakfast – Sam having woken up when the smell of bacon started wafting through the apartment – when the doorbell rang.

 

Steve tensed and shot a look at Sam. “Expecting company?”

 

“No,” Sam answered slowly, “I’m not.”

 

Just as Sam went to grab his gun and Steve his shield, Bucky put down the piece of toast he had been buttering and calmly stated, “It is the Russian one, Black Widow.”

 

“Natasha?” Steve shot Bucky a questioning look. “You’re sure?”

 

Bucky’s face remained impassive as he took a bite of his toast and nodded.

 

Steve really had no idea how Bucky could have possibly known it was Natasha, but when Sam went to check the door, they were greeted by the sight of familiar red hair.  As soon as Sam opened the door, Natasha swept in gracefully.

 

Her lips tilted up in an amused little smile when she saw Sam and Steve’s defensive stances.  “Rogers, Wilson,” she nodded to them both. 

 

“When did you get back?” Steve asked as he lowered his shield and Sam placed his gun back onto the cabinet.

 

“Late last night,” Natasha answered, her eyes sweeping the hallway and living room.  “I got an…interesting phone call from Maria.”  Her eyes locked on the corner wall that hid the kitchen. “I hear you have a house guest.”

 

“Yeah, he just showed up last night,” Sam answered, moving further into the apartment.  “Want some breakfast?”

 

Natasha drummed her fingers against her leg, a few inches below where her knives and gun rested at her hip.  After a moment, she gave a decisive nod and lowered her arms to her sides so as to appear as non-threatening as possible. “I could eat.” She waited for Steve to move and then followed the captain into the kitchen.

 

Steve kept a careful eye on Bucky’s reaction as Natasha rounded the corner, but the assassin simply continued sipping his coffee.

 

“Romanova,” Bucky dipped his head in greeting, his eyes sharp even as his body remained relaxed.

 

“Barnes,” Natasha greeted back equally calm, her movements unhurried as she took the seat next Bucky.

 

After a minute of tense silence, Sam gave an awkward cough and stood.  “Well,” he grabbed his plate, piled on a few more slices of bacon, and then moved to leave. “I’m just going to eat this in my room. If the assassins decide to have a death-match, please try to save as much of the furniture as possible, Steve.”

 

Steve jumped slightly when Bucky actually gave a snort of laughter.  The sound seemed to shock Bucky himself and the amused smile that had been stretching across his face quickly slipped back into a stoic frown. 

 

“I do not believe we will have any issues,” Natasha said, whether to reassure Steve or soothe Bucky, Steve couldn’t tell. “You never did receive any orders to kill me, did you, Barnes?”

 

“No,” Bucky answered, eyes darting over to carefully watch Natasha as she made up a breakfast plate.  “But I seem to remember you trying to kill me once.”

 

Natasha’s fingers curled tightly around her fork before she forcibly relaxed.  “I did,” she admitted before taking a bite of fruit.  “That was the first time I had failed a mission given to me by my handlers,” she paused thoughtfully.  “Though I was not so at the time, I am glad I failed.”

 

Bucky titled his head to the side, carefully considering her words.  “Are you?”

 

Before Steve could jump in and assure Bucky that it was a _good_ thing he was still here, Natasha nodded and gave the former assassin a kind smile.  “I am.”  Her gaze was unwavering and piercing.  “Are you?”

 

“I am…” Bucky’s eyes darted to Steve, almost _guiltily_ , before meeting Natasha’s gaze evenly, “undecided.”

 

Steve barely managed to suppress the wince at Bucky’s honesty but Natasha took his answer in stride.  “You will be,” she said knowingly.  “In time.”

 

The three fell into a relatively peaceful quiet as they finished eating.  It was not until Steve had cleared the table and settled back down with a new cup of coffee that Natasha re-initiated the conversation.

 

“Hill says you were considering taking Tony up on his offer.” 

 

“It seems like the best option,” Steve stated resignedly.

 

“You have concerns.”

 

“Of course I do.”  Steve had enough difficulties keeping his frustrations in check with the man; he could only imagine how Bucky would handle the engineer.  

 

“He thinks Stark is a smartass,” Bucky offered up. “Worried he might…trigger the Winter Soldier.”

 

Steve felt immense relief at Bucky’s identification as the Winter Soldier as someone _other_ , someone not himself.  That was going to be the hardest hurdle to tackle: getting Bucky to recognize that what he had been, what he had done, was Hydra’s doing, _not_ Bucky’s.

 

“Yes,” Natasha gave a wry smile.  “Tony does suffer from chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome.”

 

“Right,” Steve nodded.  “I figured Stark’s particular brand of social interaction might not be best for Bucky’s…recovery.”

 

Natasha frowned at Steve words, her eyes flashing with something close to anger.  “If Tony were to trigger the Winter Soldier, I am less concerned about it being detrimental to Bucky’s recovery and more concerned about it endangering Tony’s life.”

 

Steve recoiled at the veiled accusation in Natasha’s words. “Of course, Stark’s safety is important to me too.  But I would be there to stop-”

 

“As fast as your reflexes are, Captain,” Natasha said bitingly, “I doubt even you would be fast enough to stop the Winter Soldier from snapping Tony’s neck.”

 

Steve did flinch at that, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realized that he had a slightly biased perspective on whose safety mattered more.  Stark was a good man and Steve respected him, but Bucky was… _Bucky_.

 

“I can talk to Tony,” Natasha continued after a moment, voice softer.  “He’s usually sequestered in his lab anyways – Clint and I rarely see him when we’re there – but I can explain to him that Barnes needs time before he can see any visitors.”

 

It was surprising to realize that Natasha and Clint had already moved into the tower.  Steve knew Bruce had taken up residence there whenever the man was stateside, but he hadn’t known the agents had also gathered there.

 

“You sure that will work?” Steve asked doubtfully; he knew exactly how…intrusive Stark could be from their first encounter on the helicarrier.

 

Natasha shrugged her shoulders.  “He might up surveillance on your floor through JARVIS, but Pepper and Bruce have been a good influence on him as far as respecting other people’s privacy.  Clint and I share a floor, but Stark hasn’t stepped foot into our space since the first day when he showed us the living quarters.  All interactions with him take place on the common floor, in the workshop, or the gym.  If Barnes sticks to your floor, then Tony won’t intrude.”

 

Steve took a moment to consider everything, glancing at Bucky to see if he had an opinion on the matter.  His friend looked as indifferent as ever but gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. 

 

“Okay,” Steve finally acquiesced.  “I guess I’ll call Stark.”

 

 ~0~0~0~0~0~

 

Natasha left after breakfast, telling Steve that she would head over to the tower first and inform Stark and Banner about the new arrivals.

 

Sam came back out and gave an exaggerated sigh of relief to find his apartment still intact.  He helped Steve pack up the few belongings the captain had kept there when he had been in the city and not trying to track down his friend.  As Steve chatted amiably with Sam, Bucky simply stood next to the back sliding door, his duffle bag ready and at his feet.

 

Once Steve was all set, he turned to Sam and pulled the man into a grateful hug.  “Thanks for everything.”

 

Sam chuckled and patted his back.  “No worries, man.  You ever need any help,” he turned to look at Bucky, “either of you, then you know where to find me.”

 

Steve smiled while Bucky gave a short nod. “I’ll invite you over to visit at the tower once things are more…settled.”

 

“Sounds good,” Sam grinned.  “Who knows, maybe you can even talk Stark into fixing up my wings.”

 

“I’m sure he would be more than happy to,” Steve swung his duffle up onto one shoulder and then picked up his shield. He waved Bucky out the door and then followed after him with a final wave goodbye to Sam.

 

They loaded their meager belongings into the SUV Natasha had left them – she had taken Steve’s bike to the tower – and then departed. The drive to the tower was long and stressful due to congested New York traffic.  An overly-friendly but professional valet met them in front of the tower and informed Steve that Mr. Stark was in California on SI business for the week, but that JARVIS would be available to help with anything they might need.  Steve couldn’t help but be relieved that they were guaranteed a few days of privacy.

 

A meeting between Bucky and Stark was inevitable, but Steve figured a week or two of peace and safety would help Bucky adjust. It would also be a good time to try and identify as many of Bucky’s triggers as possible so that Steve could tell the other tower inhabitants what to avoid doing.

 

As they stepped into the elevator, JARVIS’s pleasant voice sounded through the speakers.  “Welcome to Stark Tower, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes.”

 

“Please inform Mr. Stark that we are grateful for his offer,” Steve said, head tilted slightly upwards.  He still wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette was when speaking to the AI.  The captain then noticed how tense Bucky had become and rushed to explain. “JARVIS is an AI, artificial intelligence, Bucky.”

 

“Just a rather very intelligent system,” JARVIS said with what sounded like amusement in his digitized voice.  “Mr. Stark created me.  I help Mr. Stark with whatever he requires and, as per Mr. Stark’s request, I am willing to extend my services to the Avengers.” The elevator doors opened to reveal very spacious living quarters.  “This is your floor, Captain Rogers.  Agents Barton and Romanoff are on the floor above. The common floor is just below yours, the gym below that.  If you have any questions, just address them to me and I will do my best to answer.”

 

Steve stepped out of the elevator, Bucky trailing after him.  “Thanks, JARVIS.”

 

The two men separated as they explored the floor, each claiming a bedroom.  Steve was content to let Bucky explore on his own, figuring the man would be cataloguing all possible escape and entry points, possibly even setting up some of his own security measures in his own room.  The captain was unpacking his few sets of clothes when his cell phone rang.

 

He didn’t recognize the number but answered anyways. “Rogers.”

 

“Hill tells me you’ve moved into Stark’s tower, with company.”

 

“That is correct, Director,” Steve answered Fury. He knew JARVIS was probably monitoring the call, but he figured if Stark didn’t already know that Fury was still alive, then the man deserved to know.

 

“Try to keep Stark away from Barnes as long as possible.”

 

Steve frowned in confusion, “May I ask why?”

 

“Because Stark will want a look at Barnes’s arm and I am concerned about him wanting to make upgrades.  Until Barnes has proven himself to be in his right mind, his threat-level should not be increased by Stark’s designs.”

 

Steve rolled his eyes at Fury’s words because, of course, the Director was only concerned about a dangerous asset who wasn’t under his control.  The captain would have thought the Director had learned how little control he – and SHIELD – actually ever had, but apparently old habits died hard.

 

“I’ll make sure Stark doesn’t install and missiles in Bucky’s arm,” Steve placated, trying hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

 

Fury just gave a grunt of approval and then hung up.

 

 

~0~0~0~0~0~

 

 

Steve and Bucky had been living in the tower for two weeks and things were…okay.  There were still nights that Bucky would wake up screaming, but there were also nights when Steve would wake up gasping for air and shivering hard enough to rattle his bed.  There were times Bucky would go unnaturally still, eyes going vacant, but Steve always managed to coax him back without actually triggering the Winter Soldier programming.

 

Steve had wandered down to the common floor and the gym, running into Clint, Stark, and Banner on different occasions, but Bucky never left their designated floor.  All three men asked questions about Barnes but didn’t push when Steve tried to move the conversation in a different direction.  He knew they were curious about – and maybe even concerned for – Bucky, but Steve didn’t want to divulge anything and betray Bucky’s trust.   That’s why Steve was surprised to enter their floor one day to find Barton having a quiet conversation with Bucky.

 

He left them to their quiet conversation and went to the kitchen to make himself some lunch.  After Barton left, Steve asked Bucky what they had been talking about and Bucky pressed his lips into a grim line.  “Swapping stories about what it was like to be… _aware_ , but not actually in control.”  Steve thought back to the almost-haunted look in Barton’s eyes after the Chitauri invasion and figured that Bucky and Clint probably had a lot more in common than Steve realized.

 

Later that same night, Steve was awoken by something. He remained in bed, listening carefully to try and identify why he had startled awake and then he heard a quiet whimpering noise.  Launching out of bed, Steve quickly moved to the living room.  When he arrived, he saw Bucky on the couch, curled over his left arm protectively.  Steve froze, unsure about what was happening, when Bucky emitted a hiss of pain.

 

“Bucky?” Steve called out softly, stopping when Bucky’s head snapped up to stare at him.  “Are you…what’s wrong?”

 

Bucky tried to keep his face impassive, but his face twitched and then crumpled into a grimace of pain.  Steve moved closer, noticing that Bucky’s mechanical arm was twitching uncontrollably.  

 

“Bucky…” Steve sat down slowly next to his friend, reaching a hand out but not touching Bucky as he whimpered once more. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?”

 

“The arm…” Bucky hissed out a breath. “The arm was partially crushed during…our fight.  I tried to fix it up as best I could,” the arm convulsed and Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, “But I think one of the inter-neural connections was pinched. The arm keeps acting up.”

 

Steve carefully, slowly, wrapped a hand around Bucky’s neck and applied gentle, comforting pressure.  Bucky tensed for a moment before pushing back into the grounding touch.  Steve just sat and waited with Bucky until the arm stopped jerking and Bucky’s gasping breaths lost their pained edge.

 

“Do you think…maybe Stark can take a look and-”

 

“No,” Bucky flinched away, putting more space between them. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

“Listen,” Steve gave a tired sigh.  “I know we’ve made it sound like Stark is some out-of-control child, but he really isn’t that bad.”

 

“That’s not,” Bucky shook his head and turned his head to avoid Steve’s gaze.  He chewed on the inside of his lip, his flesh hand curling into a fist. “It’s not him; it’s me.”

 

“You’ve been doing better.  And I’ll be there to-”

 

“I killed his parents.”

 

It took a second for the words to register.  Bucky glanced his way, his dark eyes awash with guilt.

 

“I killed Howard.”

 

“It’s not your fault.”  The words left Steve’s mouth almost out of reflex. They felt insignificant, but not untrue.

 

“I’m not so sure Stark would see it that way.”

 

Steve frowned, unsure of how to respond to that. He had been informed that there wasn’t really any love lost between Howard and his son, but still…they were _family_.

 

“Maybe…he doesn’t have to know,” Steve whispered, feeling guilty about suggesting they keep information so _personal_ a secret from Stark, even if it was for the best.

 

“Captain Rogers?” Steve flinched as JARVIS spoke. “Mr. Stark would like to inform you and Sergeant Barnes that while he is fully aware about the Winter Soldier’s role in his parents’ deaths, he in no way holds Sergeant Barnes responsible.”

 

 There was a pause as the AI let them process the message before JARVIS continued on. “Mr. Stark would also like to invite you to the workshop.  Both he and Dr. Banner are still awake and working on an experiment, but they are willing to take a break.”

 

Steve turned to see Bucky staring down at his mechanical arm.  He knew it would take more than Stark’s attempt to absolve Bucky of the guilt for Bucky to actually _believe_ and _feel_ he was free of guilt.  

 

“Bucky…I really think you should let Stark take a look.”

 

Steve waited patiently for his friend to make a decision and after a few minutes, Bucky seemed to have made his choice. An almost resigned look came over his face, as if he didn’t truly believe Stark didn’t hold him responsible, but was ready to take whatever punishment the man decided to give him.

 

~0~0~0~0~0~

 

 

The workshop was enclosed by clouded Plexiglas – or some other, stronger material Stark had synthesized – but the door slid open as they approached.  Dr. Banner greeted them with a tired smile, while Stark shut off the blowtorch in his hand and pulled off the protective headgear.

 

“Hey there, super-senior soldiers,” Stark greet with a flashy grin that even Steve could tell was forced.  “How can we help you gentlemen this evening?” Stark’s eyes flickered towards Bucky’s left arm and Bucky shifted on his feet.

 

“Bucky’s having problems with his arm,” Steve said slowly.  “We were hoping you could possibly fix it…”

 

“Sure, sure,” Stark waved them both further into the lab.  “I can give it a try.” He cleared off a workbench and then patted the hard surface.  “Hop up, Barnes.”  Stark moved towards a sink at the side to wash up his hands and give Bucky space to settle in without people hovering.

 

Bucky hesitated for a second before moving forward to the spot Stark had designated and sitting down.  He looked down at the mechanical arm nestled in his lap and flinched slightly when Stark pulled up a high stool in front of him and sat down.

 

“Any access panels to let me see inside?” Stark asked calmly as he rifled through a toolbox in his lap.

 

Bucky nodded before pressing on a small joint in the arm.  A few of the metal plates slid sideways with a hiss and Bucky clenched his jaw.  The assassin looked at a point on the far wall blankly before holding his arm out towards the engineer.

 

Stark situated a few tools on the workbench for easy access and then slid closer to Bucky to peer into the arm’s wiring. He hummed thoughtfully, asking JARVIS to take a few scans, and then studied the scans that the AI projected in the air. 

 

“Impressive,” Stark said lowly before glancing up guiltily.  “Uh…I’m not praising Hydra, just their tech…”

 

“It’s fine,” Bucky said gruffly, his eyes still staring straight ahead blankly.  “Can you fix it or not?”

 

“I think so?” Stark manipulated the projection in the air so he could see it from a new angle and then pointed to something. “This wire seems to be misfiring. It’s not properly transmuting the electrical impulses from your nervous system…it’s like there’s miscommunication between your nervous system and the arm, right?”

 

“Sure,” Bucky answered tersely. 

 

“Right,” Stark frowned thoughtfully as he studied Bucky’s blank face.  “Well, I think I should be able to fix the problem, maybe make you a better replacement-”

 

“Just fix this one, Stark.”

 

“Okay,” the engineer quickly agreed. He moved a little closer before looking up at Bucky.  “May I?” He gestured towards the arm, tools gripped tightly in both hands.

 

“It’s why I’m down here,” Bucky answered wryly, his eyes never wavering from the spot on the wall.

 

Stark gave a brief nod and then got to work. Steve was just off to the side, far enough away so as to avoid making Bucky feel over-crowded, but close enough to watch both men carefully.  The engineer kept up a running commentary of everything he was doing. After the fifth time Stark said “You might feel something here, tell me if it hurts,” Bucky let out an annoyed growl and Steve tensed ready to intervene.

 

“I’m not _fragile_ , Stark,” Bucky glared down at the engineer who had backed away slightly. “I can take a little pain, just fix the damn thing.”

 

“I don’t think you’re incapable of handling a little pain,” Stark said calmly.  “But if I can avoid causing pain, then of course I’m going to.”

 

Bucky looked honestly lost at Stark’s words, his eyes darting around the man’s face, trying to catch a hint of the lie. “I don’t… _why_?”

 

“Because _you_ are not the Winter Soldier, just like _I_ am not Hydra.  You’re with the Avengers now, Barnes,” Tony said resolutely and even though Steve had never really thought that far ahead to consider Bucky joining…it felt _right_.  “And the Avengers are a team.  We help each other.”

 

Bucky’s face was scrunched up in a confused frown, like he couldn’t believe – or didn’t _dare_ to believe – Tony’s words.  He swallowed thickly and then held out his arm to Tony.  “Okay.”

 

The captain watched as Tony resumed working on Bucky’s arm, his running commentary never stopping.  Bucky now avidly watched the engineer work rather than blankly staring off into space, even voicing some questions about the mechanics once in a while. 

 

Steve wasn’t sure how long he stood there watching them before Dr. Banner nudged his side and handed him a cup of coffee. The soldier and scientist sipped their coffee contently off to the side, completely forgotten by the two at the workbench.  “I’m surprised,” Steve admitted quietly after a while.

 

“About what?”

 

“That they’re actually…getting along. Everyone, myself included, was a little apprehensive about how Stark would handle Bucky.”

 

Bruce gave a noncommittal hum as he took another sip of his coffee.  After another minute of watching Bucky and Tony chat amiably, Bruce turned to Steve and said, “I’m not surprised.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Bruce looked back to watch Tony with a small smile.  “Tony is experienced in the ways of monsters and men.  Respect the monster, befriend the man.”  As he turned to face Steve, Bruce’s small smile blossomed into a full-fledged grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.  “Heck, Tony will even try to befriend the monster.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve nodded slowly, his gaze flickering to watch Stark with a newfound perspective.  Steve could hear Stark’s voice rise in pitch as the engineer got excited about something, his hands gesturing wildly in the air.  Steve could see a small, amused smile creep its way across Bucky’s face as he watched the excited scientist in fascination. “Yeah,” Steve repeated before relaxing back against the counter with a smile.  “I guess I shouldn’t have been so worried.”


End file.
